Holly Potter
by SlayQueen16
Summary: All Holly wanted a little love and adventure in her life, and she sure gets it. (Fem!Harry)
1. Rough Upbringings

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, obviously.**

 **Story: Holly Potter**

 **Chapter One: Rough Upbringings**

"Holly, it's time to get up!"

She squinted at the screeching sound and shut her eyes tighter as she pretended it was just part of what had previously been a very good dream.

"Holly, get up!"

 _Not now_. She growled viscerally as she rolled over to her other side and forced her pillow over her ears to block out the noise. She tried to imagine herself in a more peaceful setting. It would be warm, so warm that the sunshine would melt on her body and cover her in its glorious love. She smiled as she surrounded herself with the gentle serenity of pounding waves. She let out a sigh as she pretended to feel the cool sand in her toes. Her eyelids drooped down lazily.

"Holly!"

Her pillow was viciously forced from her hands.

"Grrr-aphh!" she yelled out.

"Get up! It's Dudley's birthday today and I want everything to be perfect for my little angel. So get up and make him breakfast!"

"Fine," she muttered.

As she got up Aunt Petunia watched her with those tiny, pale eyes of hers. Holly knew that the woman was making sure she was doing what she was told. This wasn't her first rodeo after all. The girl knew what was to come if she didn't get her hind end in gear.

"I'm taking my show first," Holly explained.

"Hurry up, freak."

She grinned ironically at her aunt's term of endearment as she marched up the stairs. She took her time in the shower. She loved the therapeutic pounding of water against her back and the scent of her strawberry shampoo. Dudley thought it was a _fantastic_ way to make fun of her, but she liked the fact that it matched her hair.

She was the only redhead in the entire family. Although, a couple of years ago Aunt Petunia had too much wine at a dinner party once and she let slip that her sister was a redhead. It made sense that both her and her mum have red hair. If that was true, Holly couldn't but wonder how much she looked like her mom then. After all, the Dursley's preferred not to discuss anything that wasn't absolutely boring.

She examined herself closely in the mirror. A light dusting of freckles was across her face since it's almost impossible for anyone with fair skin not be freckled any fashion. Her hair reminded her of a fire: red, wild, and refused to to tame with its obnoxious spiral curls. Her eyes were also a very bright green. Aunt Petunia said she looked like she was always celebrating Christmas. She was right, of course; the tween didn't blend in. She just wasn't normal and was constantly put down for it by her extended family.

She sighed and looked away. She might be a freak, but at least she didn't have freakishly bony fingers like _some_ people.

She secured her towel around her body and marched back down to her 'room'. Aunt Petunia was gone, and, as could be expected Dudley's stomping along the stairs, ceiling plaster fell all over everything including her mattress. She sighed again as she leaned over to pick up her clothes to wear today.

She quickly slipped into a white pair of Dudley's old pants tied with a belt to keep them up, and one of his t-shirts. She didn't own anything worth wearing or keeping. But bad clothes or not, her entire day was probably foiled with her unsavory wakeup call. Really, the way you woke up could affect your entire day.

And it didn't exactly help that it was Dudley's birthday — run for cover while you still can. You wouldn't think someone's birthday would be so cringe worthy, but every year it felt as if Holly's hair just stood up on end in anticipation every time this day came. Dudley's usual intolerable behavior was on maximum overdrive and that in itself was enough to have your guard all the way up and consider to never put it down again.

So Holly cautiously walked into the kitchen towards the stove, and tried not relive last year's fiasco. The moment Dudley was on that red racing bike he got for his tenth birthday — why he wanted one in the first place was beyond her — it broke underneath his sweaty fat ass. Then the same year he got an expensive video camera which he crushed with his sweaty fat ass too. Clearly, he needed rearview mirrors on him before backing himself up anywhere like a human minivan.

Speaking of human minivans, her uncle bustled in taking his usual seat at the head of the table. He barked something to her about not burning the bacon, but Holly ultimately ignored it. She didn't know why he or anyone else felt the need to tell her about not burning the food. She hadn't done it in years. Her speculation was that it was just another reason to yell at her. Whatever.

Then Dudley walked in. She stiffened considerably, wondering if he was going to give her his usual greeting which was a punch to the arm or if he'd be too distracted by the massive amount of presents in the room. Thankfully, it was the latter. She figured she was in the clear from his wrath. Well, that was true until his face fell.

Oh no.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy," Aunt Petunia said shakily.

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.

When she set the eggs and bacon down for breakfast she began wolfing her share down like she was raised by wolves. Unlike the males of the family Holly couldn't afford the luxury of skipping meals. It's best she eat quickly before Dudley overturns the table.

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that alright?"

Dudley thought for a moment. Holly for a second thought that she could actually, that is if she tried hard enough, see the cogs in his brain slowly turning. Finally, he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty… thirty…."

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

And Holly wondered how on earth such a _mathematician_ pretty much failed all of his final exams before the end of the summer.

"Oh," Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled, "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" he ruffled Dudley's hair affectionately.

Briefly, Holly wondered what it would be like to run the household and to pretty much get anything she wanted. Honestly, if she tried to pull such a tantrum she would probably be beaten and thrown in her cupboard for a week with only chicken broth for meals. How disgusting.

To further attest to his supreme rule over this family Dudley unwrapped a racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the home phone looking both angry and worried.

"Vernon," she hissed. "Mrs. Figg just broke her hip, that means she can't take _her_."

"What?" Both Uncle Vernon and Dudley said.

They always talked about Holly as if she wasn't there, playing the pronoun game just to be even more nasty than they already are. She might have been a little upset if she wasn't so happy in this instance. She knew she shouldn't be elated that a harmless old woman broke her hip, but every year she had to visit her home. Mrs. Figg was a crazy cat lady who, according to Dudley and his friends, once ate her lipstick down to the end because she wanted to feel red inside. Holly just hoped that was all fluff and no substance.

"I don't want _her_ there!" Dudley screamed suddenly. "It's my birthday!"

Holly suggested quietly, "If you don't want me around you can just leave me alone in the house."

Aunt Petunia looked like she swallowed a lemon and Uncle Vernon went purple — a color which she thought only possible when choking. She didn't need to be told to know that that was completely out of the question. She felt a pang of disappointment. She was hoping to be all alone, play with Dudley's computer games upstairs on his new computer, and cook and eat as much as she wished. She craved solitude or just separation from crazy Mrs. Figg and the awful Dursleys; she would take either in a heartbeat.

"Absolutely not!" Uncle Vernon said then turned to his wife. "We'll have to take her with us Petunia, after all Marge is sick and Figg is hospitalized."

Well, that didn't seem to sit well with the king of the household. A record breaking Dudley Tantrum was brewing, everyone beware. The symptoms began with crying. Well, not really crying per se, Dudley hadn't actually cried in years; no, this was just loud sobbing and whimpering to get his mommy to give in and cater to his every whim. And it usually worked, _of course_.

"I don't want her to go!" he wailed. "She _r-ruins_ everything!"

It's true. She does ruin everything. Even though she never intended to do so she'd always screwed things up one way or another. For some reason she was just a paper clip to the strong, magnetic pull of trouble.

She'd never forget how Dudley and his gang chased her out of the school's cafeteria — she was so certain she was going to die when he caught her, so she closed her eyes — but then she had this weightless feeling coursing through her and when she opened her eyes she was atop the kitchen's building, looking down at an incredibly surprised Dudley and friends.

Then when the Dursleys wished to go to the lake for three weeks out of the summer and she had to go along because Mrs. Figg and Aunt Marge were on their own vacations, well, Dudley thought it was a wonderful idea to hold her head under the water and see how long she could hold her breath. Little turd. For some reason — not that she wasn't grateful or anything — Dudley's hands were the only things to form many angry red welts from the sudden boiling water against his hands.

And the last thing she could remember was that Aunt Petunia had constantly forced her to go to the salon to dye her crimson hair, claiming it was unnatural and very distracting. She had the lady dye it brown, and cut it freakishly short because her hair never sat right according to Aunt Petunia. She cried herself to sleep that night because she feared being bullied mercilessly the next day by everyone. And by golly the next morning her hair was red and long again, and Aunt Petunia was furious.

She had no clue how she did all of this. For all she knew it was magic for crying out loud. She made the mistake once by telling them that and they overreacted by locking her in the cupboard for a week. They insisted on punishing her even though none of it was her fault. It simply just happened around her by coincidence. She was sure of it.

"Oh my Little Dudders, it's going to be okay. It'll be like she isn't there," Aunt Petunia said with a smile. Then she shot Holly a dirty look for good measure. "You'll behave won't you?" she snapped.

All she could manage was a nod as she tried her best to tune them out. She ate her breakfast and drank her orange juice quietly, not wanting to stir up the already swirling pot of drama.

Then Aunt Petunia turned back to Dudley and said in a cheerful tone, "You'll be with your friend Piers and surrounded by rides and all the—"

Well, they don't call it a tantrum because it's pleasant and calm. No, he flipped the table. Thankfully, she had already picked up those cues and ducked before getting smacked with the wooden surface. But unfortunately, she wasn't spared the shards of plates and glass that fell across her back, hands, and legs. She winced in pain and then began picking up all the itty bits ceramic and glass off her, standing a good distance away from the little monster that looked like a screaming pig in a wig. She didn't want him punching her glasses out on top of that tableware fiasco.

And yes, Dudley still wailed and screamed at the top of his lungs to get his way as Aunt Petunia tried to console him whilst Uncle Vernon said and did nothing. She thought this would never stop, but thankfully her saving grace came in the form of a doorbell ringing. It got everyone's attention. Not only did it alert Holly, but everyone else to the fact that Dudley's second in command of the Holly Hunting brigade was here to continue in their endeavors of making her life even more miserable.

"Ugh, is it ten o'clock already?!" Aunt Petunia scoffed before scurrying off to get the door. Before answering it she ran a hand through her hair several times and faked a big smile. "Hello, Piers and Mary, it's nice to see you."

"Petunia, it's so good to see you too," she said. "I hope you and Dudley have a lovely time at the waterpark today. Bye-bye now."

Holly could tell by Piers' mom's tone that she could careless if they had a nice time or not. She sounded as if she wanted Piers out of her care as soon as possible. So that meant she was being fake too. And if there was one thing the redhead knew about growing up in this household was that being fake and ignoring the problem in order to appear as normal as possible was a top priority. It wasn't how she wanted to live. Holly preferred honesty and dealing with the problem when it arises.

She was brought out of her thoughts quite clearly when she felt a fist in the pit of her stomach. She groaned in pain, collapsing to the floor, as Piers and Dudley laughed loudly at her. Her bad, she should've been paying attention. If she was she would've avoided that quite easily. The boys were too fat and lacked the speed that Holly possessed.

"Girl," called Uncle Vernon, "hurry up and clean up this mess. What do we feed you for?"

Without a word she complied. She walked over to the table and began cleaning up Dudley's mess. She flipped up the table the right ways up and began picking up the shards all up in the ripped table cloth. She grunted softly when she felt the pricks of the glass and ceramic in her hand. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to keep calm. The only thing crying would accomplish would be laughing and name calling from Piers and Dudley, and Uncle Vernon telling her to hurry up.

Was it too much to ask to be loved by family and friends, and possibly a boyfriend? All she wanted was love of all kinds. But who on earth would provide that when she was finally able to break free from this horrible home?

 **Author's Note: Should I continue?**


	2. Oops, Did Holly Do That?

**Al: Thanks, I plan to. I haven't really read Harry Potter in forever and that helps in making it different since I don't know it all by heart right now.**

 **Guest: Thank you for the tip. I don't want my story to be deleted for stupid reasons. And I do plan to make things different. Water park high jinxes ensues in a different kind of way.**

 **Dahliaiscool: Thanks for the encouragement.**

 **Smerlig: I didn't quite get that. Was that a yes?**

 **Guest: Yep, continuing.**

 **Chapter Two: Oops, Did Holly Do That?**

In the car ride to the waterpark unfortunately Holly was sandwiched between the two very round boys in swimsuits. She tried her best to ignore the punches constantly delivered to her noodly weak arms from both sides, but it was beginning to really grate on her nerves. She hoped this time when her arms started turning purple and blue they'd stop, but that was very doubtful. She was their punching bag after all.

But at least she could distract herself by listening to the radio. Well, she would if it's already low volume wasn't drowned out by Uncle complaining about sports cars revving their engines obnoxiously in obvious compensation ('who do they think they are?! Stupid rich kids and their stupid cars!') and Aunt Petunia criticizing youth's fashion of today ('honestly, who shaves the side of their head, but not their armpits?!').

Suddenly, the car came to an almost screeching stop that had everyone jolting forward. Apparently, this was necessary in order to safely cross a speed bump in front of the gates of the water park. After paying an entrance fee they entered the park, circling around for an empty parking space. As soon as they were parked Holly was the first to pile out of the backseat of the Dursley's car. She just needed a break from the punching, complaining, and bad breath in such a cramped space.

Uncle Vernon took this opportunity to corner Holly.

"You listen to me, girl," he said pointing a fat purple sausage finger in her face. She blinked at it blankly. "I don't want any funny business. If you ruin this day for Dudley you won't be fed for a week." he threatened and she tried to ignore the obnoxious laughter inside the car from Dudley and Piers, but it was still embarrassing.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," she said dully.

After that the day went pretty well. When they got to the park Dudley demanded ice cream, so they, of course, went to get ice cream and before they rushed out of there the lady working there asked Holly what she wanted. She ended up getting a cheap vanilla cup and enjoyed it. Then for lunch when Dudley demanded there wasn't enough cheese on his chilly cheese dog Holly ended up getting that one while Dudley got a brand new one that didn't make him scream like a pot belly pig — his spirit animal. Then when they finally got to enjoy the rides Holly was able to go on her separate way and enjoy the long dipping water slides on the hot summer's day without the Dursley's and company to bother her.

But, of course, nothing lasts in this world.

She should've seen it coming. Something always weird happened around her one way or another and spoiled her generally pleasant day. Staying out of trouble and flying under the radar wasn't something she was good at no matter how hard she tried. Trouble and her might as get hitched since they were almost never separated from one another

It all began when she passed by the longest and windiest water slide the park had to offer. It was so intimidating kids called it the Bone Crusher. Considering how much Holly liked having her bones remain intact, she decided to avoid it. That is until her cousin and his obnoxious 'friend' pushed her to the ground with two hard shoves. She gasped sharply when her back met the pavement. One downside to glasses: they provide little to no peripheral vision.

Dudley and Piers laughed loudly as Holly had to adjust her crooked glasses back on her face properly. She sighed, wishing they'd just leave her to her own devices. She was having quite a bit of fun all on her own without anyone to harass her thank you very much.

"I'm going on the Bone Crusher," Dudley said. "If you're man enough you'll do it too, Holly."

"She won't. She's just a scared little freak!" Piers said.

A scared little freak, huh? Now, she was used to the cute little nickname 'freak' and did her best to ignore and not let it hurt her. But scared? She wasn't scared she was just being smart — or at least that's what she told herself. For the most part she was used to the whole name calling, neglectfulness, and general mistreatment all because apparently everything about her was freaky and intolerable, but being called a coward by some snot nosed kid that screamed like a baby every time she rounded a corner unexpectedly. Nope. That just wasn't going to fly. Of all the things in the world to be called she knew she wasn't a coward.

"I'm gonna do it," she said, standing on her feet and brushing the dirt from the backside of her navy blue one piece. "We'll see who's bones get crushed." A small wash of mischievousness went through her. "Spoiler alert," she whispered with a small smile, "it's gonna be you, pig wig."

A victorious smile graced her features as a look of pure rage enveloped Dudley's face. His face was growing red and a few shades of purple and — he looked remarkably like his father in that instance. And Holly knew that look quite well. She had gone too far, been a little too mean and confident about insulting her bigger and stronger cousin. She was absolutely certain that the Holly Hunting was about to begin.

With that thought in mind Holly's dashed across the pavement in her desperation to get away from Dudley and Piers. Holly looked around desperately for a way to tire Dudley out, his big weakness, as she weaved throughout the crowds. Her emerald green caught the sight of the Bone Crusher, that had a tall set of stairs that would clearly tire out her very overweight cousin. Perfect, she thought.

Her little bare feet thundered up the stairs choosing the set of stairs used for people who back out seeing as not many people were on them. Her feet felt like lightning as she focused on the top, her goal to escape her enraged cousin and tire him out. She made it to the top, lungs burning as she pushed aside the person next in line.

"Hey, no cuts!" a fellow tween snapped at her.

"Sorry," Holly panted.

Her muscles were burning with lactic acid, but she carried on and stiffly stepped into the little circular basin filled with water that was gushing down the big black slide. She looked over to her side as the pimply teen incharge of the slide yelled at Holly for breaking the rules. She saw her cousin make it up the stairs, looking incredibly winded and on the verge of death. She supposed this is the most exercise Dudley's gotten all year. Maybe he'd pass out and this would be the end of this.

But of course, this was not the end of all of this.

"You're… so… gonna… get it… Potter!" he spat, articulating poorly during his fight for breath.

"But I've already won," she said, green eyes blinking almost innocently. Almost.

"RAGH!" he roared, enraged.

He barreled after her and she, after years of adapting to his bullying, she easily moved out of the way. And Dudley fell right through the slide, bumping his head on the top with a loud painful cry. Holly's eyes widened marginally as she stared shockingly at the rushing water in the black tube of the water slide and then over to Piers who looked horrified and then finally back at the slide. She hadn't heard a thing from him and guilt was beginning to twinge inside her. Dudley hit his head pretty hard….

Without a word she rushed after him down the slide. Despite all the bullying and harassment she's endured over the years she didn't want to seriously injure her cousin. She wasn't a monster. That and she didn't want to be punished after having such a good day at the water park.

She flew down the slide at a faster rate than her cousin because of her smaller… everything. "Wheeeeee!" she cried out in joy when she flew from the slide, landing into the water with a loud and giant splash.

But when she went up for air the fun was over. Her green eyes searched around for Dudley to see if he made it out alright and landed on the mass of fat simply floating there amongst many people wading in the water to get out of the pool. Holly waited to see if her cousin was going to move, but after several long moments he continued to float there face down. Oh no.

"Lifeguard! Help! Please!" she yelled out throughout the crowd as hysteria and panic rose in her chest.

Everyone was conversing loudly, going about their business, laughing, and planning to get back in line to get back on the same water slide. There were too many occupied with their own agendas. And there wasn't a lifeguard insight. A little sigh on a brick wall adjacent to the stairs to the water slide read 'NO LIFEGUARD ON DUTY. SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK.'

Holly swallowed, keeping her panic at bay. She knew she had to do this herself if Dudley was going to live. Courage welled up in her from an unknown place in her and she began to swim over to her cousin, knowing that time was of the essence.

When she reached her cousin's sinking form she wrapped her arms underneath his, pulling at him desperately to get his face out of the water. She grunted softly as she felt herself sinking too from swimming with someone twice her size and weight attached to her. But she was determined and resilient as ever and tried her darnedest to keep both her and her cousin afloat and make it to the end of the pool. And just when water began filling her mouth and she was failing to keep them above something happened.

She didn't know if it was what her science teacher called 'an adrenaline rush' or if it was some kind of miracle, but she now had the strength to swim for both herself and her cousin. She coughed softly as she paddled to the edge, pushing and rolling her cousin out of the pool. He landed on the cement with a soft smack and likewise she heard many people gasp around, finally taking notice to the situation.

Whether or not the people around them were aware or not with shaking limbs she pulled herself up and out as well, fighting to regain her ragged breath. And as much as she wanted to collapse and sleep for three days straight she knew her work wasn't done here. She had to make sure he was still breathing. As many gasped and started calling for help she helped the situation herself by leaning forward and pressing her ear to Dudley's fat flabby chest, trying to hear a heartbeat.

Thu-thump, thu-thump… thu-thump.

Holly let out a breath of relief, but something was still off. She didn't hear or feel any breathing from Dudley. She frowned and without a second thought, remembering something similar being done to a drowning victim in a movie or something she hit him in the stomach. Hard.

"UGH! Oh!" she heard her cousin gasp and splutter up water like a fountain. He coughed horribly and was finally getting air back into his lungs properly.

"Oh my god," she heard someone gasp along with many other murmurs amongst the crowd that formed.

"Did you see that?"

"She saved him."

"She saved that drowning boy."

"Oh my god," another person gasped.

She ignored them since deep relief swept through her like the ocean's tide, making her sigh and her shoulders sag. She did it. She saved him. Dudley was no longer dying or drowning.

"Holly," her cousin coughed. Confusion was written all over his face as he tried to focus on hers. "Why? Why would you save me? I thought you hated me."

Why? Why did she save him? She did hate him. She hated him for all the bullying and harassment and didn't let her make any friends. But she did indeed rescue him from drowning in a pool.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully.

She didn't know. She just did it. Something inside her just wouldn't allow someone to die right in front of her especially if she could do something about it even she hated someone. Maybe it was her morals; she knew she wouldn't be able to live with the guilt of not stopping someone fro—

"DUDLEY!" she heard the familiar shrill scream of her aunt sound off. She saw Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon shove everyone in the crowd to the side in the need to get to their son. "Dudley! My baby!" she wailed.

Holly scooted out of the way. She didn't want to get caught in the crossfire. She knew how things played out. If the Dursley's caught one glimpse of her they'd blame her immediately. Maybe she could slip into the crowd and disappear from their line of sight. Just maybe.

"You!" Uncle Vernon shouted, pointing a fat sausage finger at her. His temple was doing the cha-cha on his forehead he was so furious. "You, girl! You had something to do with this!"

"No!" she protested. "I didn't do anything!"

"Dudley!" Aunt Petunia said, looking down at her son in her arms. "Did she do this to you?"

All eyes were on Dudley. Holly looked at him earnestly, hoping against hope that maybe her cousin wasn't going to be horrible to her on the account that she saved his life and all this time around. But she wasn't sure. She had never seen a decent side of her cousin, but she hoped. She hoped this time would be different.

"She…," he began, color beginning to come back to his ghostly pale face. "Holly didn't do anything." he finished.

Another wave of relief went through her. A smile formed on her lips as her aunt and uncle dismissed her entirely again. They were too preoccupied with Dudely now that their target was no longer a target for blame. Holly was just thankful for the neglect in this case opposed to no meals for a week and being locked up in her cupboard for the rest of the summer.

 **Author's Note: please review.**


	3. You've Got Mail

**ImAnnieB: Hi again! I'm glad you like this story too and it is going to be a lot of fun to write Holly at Hogwarts.**

 **Chapter Three: You've Got Mail**

The next few days were kind of odd for Holly. Her aunt and uncle weren't acting any differently towards her or her cousin. But it was indeed her cousin that was different. Dudley was no longer doing what he did best: Holly Hunting whenever he had the chance. It was kind of surreal. No longer did she have to be on red alert that her cousin would punch her, push her down the stairs, or sabotage her in some manner. At first she thought this was simply a set up for a punchline — try and get her to lower her guard and then strike. But no, that never occurred (she also assumed that he didn't have the brains to pull off something like that in the first place).

So Holly was pretty chipper at breakfast that morning.

For two reasons now.

When Holly entered the kitchen she had to cover her mouth the inside of her elbow to keep the laughter from spilling out of her and making a giant spectacle out of it. Her cousin Dudley was in his new school uniform which consisted of very short shorts, a fitted jacket, a ridiculous hat, and a walking stick. But that wasn't the funniest part. No. The funniest part was the fact that he was prancing around in front of his cheering parents like he was the next top model and owned the place.

By this point Holly's face matched her hair she was laughing against her hand so hard. She took a seat at her usual spot at the table and tried to calm down before she popped a blood vessel in her face. And when a certain awful smell invaded her nostrils that distracted her right away. She looked over at her aunt curiously.

Her nose wrinkled at the smell and sight of Aunt Petunia boiling her old uniform back when she attended secondary school to rid it of the musty smell and its color. Of course, her aunt would be far too cheap to actually buy her the school uniform assigned to Holly from the school. They'd save every pound they could when it came to their niece; the redhead already knew that. But couldn't she find a less revolting method of ridding her clothes of color?

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Aunt Petunia snapped at her.

"That really stinks," she told her.

"I'm sorry, would you rather do the gutters instead of eating breakfast to avoid the smell?" she asked snootily.

"No," she said, turning away from her aunt and back to her breakfast.

She really didn't want to go and clean out the gutters. She hated being on the roof and bending over to dig out all kinds of crap because every second felt like she was going to fall to her death — not that Dursley's would care. So it was best not to argue with her highly irritated aunt or Holly might end up with a broken neck.

The redhead began to eat as her cousin took one more spin around the kitchen before sitting his royal highness in his usual spot at the table. And he ignored her and she was mildly surprised he didn't take an opportunity to whack her with his Smelting Stick. Maybe he was finally ignoring her like she wished opposed to taking every opportunity he could to bully her. It was a very welcomed change that she hoped would remain permanent.

"Dudley, would you mind getting the morning paper, my sweet boy?"

"Make Holly get it," he whined.

"Make Dudley get it," she countered.

"Dudley, whack her with your Smelting Stick," Uncle Vernon said evenly.

Green eyes looked over at a pink puffy face cautiously. Was he going to do it? Was he going to hit her with that small club? From what she could tell he was wrestling with the idea of actually doing it. Oh no. Not one to tempt fate, Holly stood up. She'd best get the mail and she did exactly that. She exited the house, walked down the small sidewalk, and approached the mail box.

She opened the metallic lid and examined the mail's contents curiously. Bills, bills, letter from Smeltings, bills, bills, postcard from Marge, bills, and what's this? A letter addressed to Holly? It was clear as day, her name and address 'Ms. Holly Anne Potter, the Cupboard Under the Stairs, Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey' written in emerald ink at the center of the envelope. It was unmistakably her who this was for. She found it difficult to breathe she was so overwhelmed with excitement and incredulity. She just couldn't believe that someone had taken the time to hand write her a letter. Never had she ever received a letter that was written for her and her alone. No one was close enough to her, no one was anywhere near a friend to her to send her a letter.

With trembling fingers she ran hand down her name and address, feeling the bumps of ink and to admire the fact that this was real. This was an actual letter addressed to her, for her, and received by her. She flipped the letter and saw a curious little emblem above a capital H for a seal. The emblem had a capital H as well, but it was surrounded by a lion, a serpent, a badger, and an eagle encircling it in an intricate design. It was pretty, but she had no clue what it stood for or anything of that nature. She wondered if—

"Potter! What's taking so long?" she heard Uncle Vernon shout.

She jolted, yanked out of her thoughts quite quickly. She pulled out the rest of the mail which contained things that tried to sell people things and stashed her letter in one of the huge pockets in her huge shorts. Then she headed back inside rather quickly, wanting to be left alone with her letter undisturbed.

"Here's your mail," she said quickly.

She then headed towards her cupboard hurriedly. Her little feet moved quickly across the wooden floor. Perhaps a shade too quickly since her feet tripped over themselves and had Holly plummeting to the floor. She groaned pitifully as her aunt and uncle laughed at her as she stuffed the little pale envelope underneath her. She wouldn't let the Dursleys ruin this for her.

She brought herself to her feet, picking up her letter and hiding out in her cupboard. She wanted to read the beautiful letter addressed to her and her alone in peace. So she closed the cupboard behind her and began to remove the intricate seal, careful to keep from damaging it. She opened it delicately and curiously read the emerald inked contents:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

She frowned deeply. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? That didn't sound real. It sounded like a prank, an elongate one indeed, but a prank nonetheless. She could feel anger and crushing sadness starting to overwhelm her. Her hopes were so high. She wanted a real person to try and get in contact with her. She wanted a real friend, someone that loved her, and someone that treated her decently for crying out loud.

She grabbed the letter and envelope, enraged, as she stomped out of her cupboard. This had gone too far and she was going to the bottom of this and speak her mind to these people.

"Quit stomping Holly!" Aunt Petunia snapped. "You're shaking the china."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?!" she demanded, throwing the letter on the breakfast table. "I put up with a lot of malarkey, but this? THIS is unacceptable! I don't like my feelings getting hurt! And this is a low blow! Writing a fake letter from a 'magic' school?!"

"What?" Uncle Vernon wheezed hoarsely.

He looked as if he was having trouble breathing since his stupid red face was turning blue and was squirming around looking like invisible hands were choking him. Not to mention, Aunt Petunia looked like someone fed her at least three ripe lemons and told her that company was coming was coming in an hour without any warning whatsoever.

"Hey, what's so special about a stupid little letter?" Dudley said, noticing that the attention wasn't on him any longer.

"What do we do, Vernon?" Aunt Petunia exclaimed through a walloping gasp.

Dudley, now interested in something other than himself and the TV, made a grab for that pesky letter. But Uncle Vernon, whose terrified beady little eyes caught what his son was doing, snatched the letter before he could. And it only made Dudley want to get it more. He was probably surprised that his typically very doting parents found something that was more interesting than him. He even whacked Uncle Vernon on the arm and head a view time to try and get the letter.

However, Uncle Vernon was too busy, giving Aunt Petunia a terrified look. And then, suddenly he yelled:

"Out! Both of you! Out!"

He stood at full height from his chair, grabbed both Holly and Dudley by the scruff, and tossed them out of the kitchen. He slammed the door in their faces with finality. The two cousins were in shock at the treatment. Dudley and Holly weren't shocked by the treatment towards her, but they were by the treatment towards him. If Dudley was tossed around and pretty much shoved to the side over a silly little letter what did this mean?

The two of them scrambled against the door, trying to peep through the keyhole to see and hear what's going on. Holly, being the smaller and frailer of the two, was pushed to the side. And Dudley was the one who got the best possible look, so she put her ear against the door and tried her hardest to listen.

"Petunia, what are we going to do?" she heard Uncle Vernon say hoarsely.

"I don't know, Vernon," she hissed back. "She read it! She read it! How are we going to—"

"Sh! Sh!" he exclaimed. "Do you see that's addressed specifically to the Cupboard Under the Stairs. They're probably watching us: the house, what we do."

There was an audible gasp from Aunt Petunia.

"What do we do?" she demanded, voice growing high and shaky.

"Things have got to change," he said.

Later that day, Holly was in her cupboard. She was turning things over in her mind. Clearly, this wasn't a prank from her aunt and uncle. It must be a prank of some kind from someone the Dursleys hate. Obviously, the person or people the Dursleys hate are very creative to come up with such intricate details for a prank letter to the niece they try to hide away as much as possible. It made her wonder….

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

She looked up in confusion. Usually, no one knocked for her; they didn't care enough to be polite to her. So, cautiously, she stood up and opened the door slowly.

It was Uncle Vernon.

"Yes?" she questioned.

He looked very awkward, scratching the back of his head, and not happy about being in the position. "Your aunt and I decided to… to give you Dudley's second bedroom," he said.

Her red eyebrows flew up on her forehead in surprise. She was going to be given her very own bedroom?

"Why?" she questioned, not trusting this since it was too good to be true moment.

"Does it matter?!" he snapped. "Just get your stuff and get up there!"

She turned away from him and began gathering her things. She didn't own much. Just a couple of clothes, a few rejected toys from Dudley, and a blanket or two were gathered up in her arms. She moved past her uncle and up the stairs towards the unused bedroom.

She couldn't stop the happiness that started to grow in her chest. She'd get to have her own room? No longer she'd be have to be below the stairs where anyone on the slightly heavier side (which was half of the residents of the house by the way) would cause plaster to rain down on everything. And no longer would she have to deal with being horribly cramped in a closet as she grew. She was almost 4'7" now after all.

Holly was fairly excited.

When she got into Dudley's second bedroom, now Holly's bedroom, she dropped her things in the middle of the floor. She looked around curiously, wondering if this was still pretty much a storage area for all of Dudley's unwanted presents over the years. A few glances around told her all she needed to know.

Against the wall opposite of the twin bed's was a shelf filled with dusty unread books. They were a full set of encyclopedias, detailed history books of England dating all the way back to 1066, and inspirational story books meant for children. She wasn't surprised that these books weren't read, Dudley didn't have the imagination or the patience for them; it was all about the TV and other little gadgets he got from his parents.

And speaking of 'other little gadgets' near the wardrobe on the wall adjacent was a pile of broken tech. There was Dudley's first red racing bike (why he had one was beyond her, the boy hated exercise). It was broken, of course, and she remembered the day he first rode it. When he sat it on it groaned underneath his weight, and he didn't even make it all the way to end of the street before the metal bent and broke apart. That got a good chuckle out of her. Then he got a decent little camcorder for his birthday one year to which he left on the couch, sat on, and broke against fat butt. Then there was a remote control helicopter he smashed into the neighbor's house, causing one of the propeller to bend terribly. This entire room was just a junkyard of broken toys and rejected birthday and Christmas gifts.

But she couldn't help the smile on her face though, and jumping happily on her bed. She had her very own bedroom. No longer was she confined to a cupboard like she was the scum of the earth, hidden away because of shame. Well, the Dursleys were still ashamed of her (except maybe Dudley) however at least it was an improvement.

"AARGHH!"

Holly flinched against her mattress at the roar she heard outside her room. She didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know who that was and what he was angry about. She sighed loudly, grabbing the sides of her pillow beside her head, and covering her ears with them. She hated yelling. Even though she was indeed used to screaming directed at her and others that didn't mean she wasn't tired of it and despised it vehemently. She just didn't know how to stop it or deal with it.

"WHY DOES HOLLY GET MY SECOND BEDROOM?!"

"BECAUSE I SAID SO!"

Desperately trying to distract herself from the argument outside, she couldn't help but wonder why Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were so fixated on a little prank letter sent by a strange, albeit creative, person. She couldn't help but notice the change in dynamics. Well, the first change was with Dudley and she knew exactly why that was and that made sense to her. But the change in her aunt and uncle?

Suddenly, a knock to the door brought her out of her thoughts. She was still weirded out by someone knocking on her door.

"Um, come in," she said uncertainly.

The door burst open. "Get down here, freak, and— I mean," Aunt Petunia took a deep breath before finishing her sentence, "dinner is on the table."

Wow, Aunt Petunia was actually trying to be decent to her. Trying being the operative word there, but trying nonetheless. Giddiness spread from Holly's chest to her toes.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia!" she exclaimed, hopping off her bed and running past her aunt.

Holly could've sworn she saw the woman roll her eyes in contempt, but she didn't care. The redhead just took what she could get from the Dursleys and if no more yelling was all she got then who was she to complain. She swore if she had a proper doctor's visit they'd find mild hearing loss from all the loud noise aimed at her over the years.

Dinner was painfully awkward for everyone except for Holly. She preferred the silence and ate with gusto and a smile on her face. However, it was obvious that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were trying to stay calm and 'normal' while Dudley was glaring daggers at his cousin.

Time passed and things remained like this. Holly was fairly pleased since it seemed as if life was better at the Dursley's. But of course, when it came to her extended family all good things must come to an end. And it seemed to come at a screeching stop when July 31st rolled around.

Holly was expecting the usual for her birthday: an old pair of socks, maybe some other form of acknowledgement of the occasion, and neglect. After all, she never got birthday cakes, presents, love, or any sort of merriment. Sure, she longed for it and had a tiny dash of hope that her aunt and uncle might surprise her this year since they've been somewhat more tolerable as of late, but honestly though she had hope.

When her alarm clock on the bedside table struck 12:00 she said to herself, "Happy birthday, Holly."

BOOM!

The entire house shook like a leaf underneath the powerful tremor of someone or something breaking the front door in. Holly could feel every hair on her body stand on end as she jolted violently in the bed. And she wasn't the only one horribly surprised, her aunt and uncle were as well, considering she heard a high pitch scream and rather colorful curses.

"Vernon! Go check on that noise!" she heard her aunt hiss loudly from the room right next to hers. "Now!"

Holly could feel her heart pounding hard in her tiny chest as she heard blood rushing in her ears. Through the eerie unsettling silence of the night she heard the bed next door creak as her big uncle got out of it. Likewise, curiously and rather stupidly, the young girl put on her glasses and quietly got out of her own bed.

Her little, pale, bare feet took each step slowly to not make a sound. She crouched low and pressed her ear to the door. But, in reality, she didn't need to.

"ARGH AAAHHH!"

The redhead jumped in surprise once more, but this time she fell against the door, opening it in the process. She grunted in pain and corrected herself as best she could. And unfortunately, this gained everyone's attention downstairs. Four eyes looked up at her. The difference was one pair looked at her with overwhelming fright and the other with elation .

"Well, Holly I hadn't seen you since you was a baby," she heard the stranger in the house say to her. "Still got that red hair I suppose."

She regarded him curiously. The person in her aunt and uncle's house was an incredibly large man. He probably barely fit through the front door he most likely broke down with just his big foot and nothing more. In the single light of the lamp she could tell he had a large, shaggy beard; and an equally as shaggy hair almost surrounding the entirety of his face. But she could still see warm beady, brown eyes amongst all that hair. The stranger was also dressed as if he had a lot to carry and prepared for quite a bit of rain. He was definitely an individual her aunt and uncle would not want to be seen with, considering how preoccupied they were with social standings and all.

His appearance aside, how did he know about her? He claimed to have met her as a baby. But the only people that knew her baby was probably (very briefly most likely) her parents, aunt, uncle, cousin, and 'Aunt' Marge. So… who is he?

"I don't mean to be rude, but… who are you?" Holly asked, shifting awkwardly as she started walking down the stairs.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys, and Grounds at Hogwarts," he said proudly. "But you know all about Hogwarts, right?"

"Um… no," she said.

She didn't know why she felt bad for not knowing. Hogwarts sounded like the name of a disease you get on the bottom of your foot. That didn't sound like something she wanted to know about.

"What? How could you not know about Hogwarts? Blimey, Holly, don't you ever wonder where your mom and dad learned it all?"

"Learned what?" she asked curiously.

Suddenly, Uncle Vernon seemed to have found his courage. He stepped forward, shaking at the knees slightly, but a look of determination was on his face despite this.

"Stop right there. I will NOT let you tell her another word!" he exclaimed. "We didn't raise her for almost eleven years for you to ruin it all!"

Hagrid, in all of his big statured glory, walked up to Uncle Vernon. "And I suppose a big ol' muggle like yourself is gonna stop me," he said.

Uncle Vernon shrunk back so fast Holly thought he passed out. This was the first time she'd ever seen her uncle in fear of anyone and it was rather surreal.

"Oh before I forget, I got you something," he said, facing the redhead, pulling a white package from his giant coat. "'Fraid I might have sat on it at one point, but it'll taste all the same."

Hesitantly, Holly took the package from Hagrid. Curiously, she lifted the top of it to reveal none other than a pink, somewhat smushed, cake with emerald green icing that read 'Happy Birthday Holly'.

Her face flushed in gratitude. She had no idea how to express this. She'd never gotten a birthday cake, or anything really, on any occasion.

"Th-thank you," she said.

She placed the cake on the coffee table in the living room before she looked back over to Hagrid curiously. The love seat wasn't big enough to his liking, apparently, so he pulled out a pink umbrella from that oversized coat and somehow enlarged it. She saw him point that umbrella at the little couch and mutter something, but there was no way that would change the SIZE of a COUCH.

"H-how did you do that?" Holly breathed in amazement as Hagrid took a seat on the couch that now accommodated for his size.

"Holly, have you ever felt like you could do things that didn't make any sense… when you were angry or scared?" he asked.

Yes. How was that even a question for her? Unexpected things happened to her all the time when she was pressured enough. In fact, she narrowly avoided serious consequences for what went on with Dudley's birthday by saving his life… somehow. Really the both would've logically drowned.

"All the time," she answered honestly.

"You're a witch, Holly," Hagrid told her.


End file.
